


Dive

by orphan_account



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: F/M, homeboi be having deep thots, inej on the ceiling KWEEN, kanej for the win, kaz in his feelings, written to A Thousand Times Good Night by Abel Korzeniowski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:34:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23177038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Relationships: Kaz Brekker & Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa, kanej
Comments: 7
Kudos: 24





	Dive

Visions never reached him in a cacophony of colors. Always metallic shards of thought that never placed a toe out of the irreversible line of grey. At times they grazed the back of his eyelids with the utmost care, carving the image of wealth and prosperity as though to remind him of the bedrock that greed had bestowed upon him.

A bruised piece of parchment rimmed with mold was not much to brood over, yet as with most things that belonged not to him, Kaz longed to make it so. And it had been the greater sin of his unabashed cravings that had breached the dam. The scheme had rolled off his tongue like the foulest of gold.

“If we get caught I’ll make sure the saints spare me a moment to tear the heart from your chest Brekker.”

Zenik had an endearing habit of aiming empty threats at him at the most inappropriate of times. The fact that she kept hissing them under her breath while wearing a smile for the wrinkly merchant to adore, didn’t add more charm to it, but alas Kaz had to mind his tongue lest the heartrender accidentally forced him to sink his teeth into it.

“I would suggest you refrain from doing so, Zenik.” He observed the crowd, intent on gauging their intentions and failures. He felt generous. Tonight he might just steal a watch or two, perhaps three. The rich nothings certainly wouldn’t feel the absence of their accessories. “Inej has left them enough of her prayers to sign.”

Over the other end of the line, someone coughed.

“Kaz?” Jesper said in a hushed tone, meaning he was not in the crowd offering drinks and cupcakes to the joyous ladies and gentlemen. “Me and Wylan are inside the kitchens-“

“Wylan and I, Jesper.”

“Yes, Mattie, of course. Silly me. Boo boo the fool. As I said Wylan and I are inside the kitchens and freckle pie just smashed a plate on the ground.”

A much-exaggerated gasp sizzled against his ear and Kaz was suddenly inspired to deliver Zenik a skull-shattering blow. “Was it full?!”

“Judging from the way one of the veins on the chef’s neck just spawned three whole generations, I’d say yes.”

“I told you the kid couldn’t do it, demjin.”

“And I distinctly remember voicing my disinterest in your take on this matter, Helvar.” Kaz brushed his thumb lightly against the metallic beak of the crow. “Tell Wylan to break another, this time enough for the chef to send him to take out the garbage.”

A dissonance of objects being shattered thundered into the earpiece.

“I’m sure he’s got this down, Kaz. Also, don’t get mad but when do I come in again?”

Kaz scanned the crown of their heads, the insistent movement of their mouths, the never-ending chain of conversation fluttering out of their mouths, and said. “At the roar of the wealthy.”

“Kaz…” A tender, almost whispering voice. Inej. “There has been a change of plans.”

As per usual, Zenik was the first to rise on her claws and readiness. “Is something wrong? Don’t tell me they took you out of the show.”

“No, nothing of the sort.” She said and he found himself waiting for her to continue. It nearly startled him onto the light. “I’m no longer to be among the dancers.”

Jesper cursed under his breath. Could it be Wylan was somewhere nearby? “Um, Kaz? This could be a problem. What if she can’t-“

“You’re still a performer, is that right Inej?”

“Yes.”

“That will be enough for you to do your part.”

“Everything is enough for you, Brekker.”

“Not nearly as much as you might think, Helvar.”

Zenik told them both shut their mouths and they did so gladly. A conversation with Helvar was like attempted communication with a bleached rock. It provided Kaz with no stimulation other than a desperate need to flee into slumber.

A pearl of golden light caressed the irises of his eyes, leaving traces of unfamiliar warmth in its wake. He blinked it away. One after the other, identical droplets descended over the crowd like a veil of grandeur, as though to enhance the frivolousness of that evening. Typical of those he loathed and envied.

He’d told Jesper his entrance was to happen at the roar of the wealthy. It never came. A nearly saint-like silence had coiled its way around the crowd, branched its limbs into their ever so blabbering tongues. There was a certain kind of malicious pleasure to be found in the gaping wonder of their gazes. So raw and pleading to be robbed.

Subconsciously, Kaz strengthened his hold on the crow’s head. He had never hungered for one’s bleeding foolishness more.Then the first note of the violin, like a sigh of marvel, embraced the entirety of the ball-room, and Kaz somehow knew his sights should be set on the ceiling of painted stars. They connected and unraveled with the shifting clouds of his raging heartbeats.

Among the thousand burning suns, there she stood, deadly in her stealth. There was mind-numbing beauty in the way she wore her pride and grace, like a crown of blood she’d won with her own.

But he knew… Kaz knew what simmered beneath that shimmering silver gown. It wasn’t cruelty, nor was it unforgiving ruthlessness. And when the welcome weight of her gaze fell on his own, he drew a startled breath.

His grip wavered. The words hovered over the backs of his eyelids, unsure whether to cleave the letters into his flesh so that every time he thought of her he’d bleed. Because kindness and mercy weren’t blessings bestowed upon the monsters of the slums or the demons of the cards. They were false coins, and in Ketterdam such a thing was curse gifted to the ones who dared to dream.

And she was bold enough to don these words like daggers as well as caresses. He would never learn how. He wasn’t certain he wished to.  
She twisted the ropes and gossamer shawls around her wrist and ankles so that her hand reached toward the shadows that bathed his frame. Even with the insufferable distance between the two of them he recoiled.

It was the sea. If she drew closer, he would sink beneath the tide, and this time there would be no corpse for him to reach out to. Kaz had hoped he might not feel as helpless, that the idea did not sound quite as gut-curling as it once had. That the sea might have grown kinder over the years. But the sea was not Inej, and she was not its rage. She could not haul him out of the ominous depths and onto a prosperous patch of land where sunbeams sang lullabies of joy and the nights didn’t sear with terror. That was not the way of things. 

That struggle belonged to him. He would swim his blasted way out of the darkening waters. And it would not be tonight. Tonight he bargained his soul to the promise of kruge and the blood he’d have to spill. 

When the first gunshots rang like the recess bell, he was smiling. And it was a smile of reluctant liberty and elation.


End file.
